


Good Omens Drabble Collection

by Quantum_Witch



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Anger, Angst, Cliche, Costume Kink, Death, Demons, Drabble, Food Issues, Gen, Horsemen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Meme, Music, Other, Religions, Slash, Suggestive Themes, Triple Drabble, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-07
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Witch/pseuds/Quantum_Witch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short pieces that will feature just about everyone from Good Omens... Currently: Crowley, Aziraphale, the Four Horsepersons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crowley & Aziraphale

**Author's Note:**

> Do not republish or distribute this story, in whole or in part, anywhere else without my permission.

**P.A.S.D. (Post-Apocalyptic Stress Disorder)**   
_(written for a "100 things" challenge, hence the 100 licks)  
_

Psychologically, Crowley supposed he could blame the near ending of the world for his newfound need to count things, ticking off the moments of his continued existence. How many times he dined out with the angel. How many ducks they fed. How many bottles of wine they consumed at the bookshop.

And now Crowley watched Aziraphale reading a musty old tome, avidly counting the times he licked his thumb before gently turning pages. One hundred licks later, the demon leapt up and replaced the angel's thumb with his own serpentine tongue.

Afterward, he stopped counting and starting enjoying life again.

 

* * *

 

 **PRANKS OR PLEASURES** _  
(written as a Halloween contest entry, 666 words in total)_

Crowley liked holidays on general principle. They were festive, offered opportunities for extra drinking, and allowed one to get away with things that were often frowned upon on normal days.

But Halloween was the best of all, especially now in the 21st century, because he could actually venture into public sans sunglasses and show off a bit of his true nature without the hassle of altering human memories. Nowadays, he could even saunter about in broad daylight on All Hallow's Eve and barely an eyebrow was raised. People smiled and complimented him on his costume when, for once, he wasn't wearing one. Mostly people just wanted to know where he'd gotten his stunningly realistic contact lenses.

(He also rarely had to deal with any serious Satanists on this day anymore. Most of them scoffed at the holiday, saying it had become too commercial.)

This year, for the first post-Apocalypse Halloween, he decided to go a little further and unsheath his wings as well. Walking now up the darkening streets of Soho he was a fairly impressive sight, but hardly the most outrageously dressed individual. Some of the people weaving woozily down the narrow lanes, in and out of the many bars and shops, could have put a few Dukes of Hell to shame with their disgusting inventiveness. It really was amazing what some food colouring and various bits of cheap glued-on rubber could accomplish. Crowley grinned in delight at every pseudo-demonic person he passed, who greeted him with happy drunken whoops and pointing fingers and whispers of "damn, now THAT'S a great costume". And damned great it was.

He finally entered Azirpahale's bookshop, and the angel jumped in alarm when he saw the demon's appearance. "Good gracious! Crowley, whatever are you trying to do? We aren't supposed to show our true forms!"

"Like anyone would even notice tonight," Crowley grinned wider, and leaned over the countertop. His demonic aura was especially strong at the moment, as he was enjoying himself and not even trying to hide what he was. "Come on, bet you could walk down the streets wings out too, and no one would blink an eye."

Aziraphale huffed. "Perhaps, but I shan't do so. It's in bad taste, if you ask me."

"How can you say that? We don't even look as otherworldly as half the people out there! Unless you decide to show a full-on angelic halo or flaming sword or something."

"Well... we didn't have to buy or make our forms, did we? It's just... what we are."

Crowley hooted with glee. "You're saying it's bad taste because people had to make an effort, and we didn't? Oh that's priceless. Well then, angel," he leaned over further and grabbed Aziraphale's tie in his fist. "Let's make an effort… to blend in, anyway. Come out with me. For one evening, let yourself be free. What could it possibly harm?"

Visions of snakes and apples taunted Aziraphale, who finally sighed and agreed. But the moment he produced his own wings, Crowley hissed in disgust.

"Ugh, what a mess! No way am I going to be seen in public with you looking like that. Let's get you groomed first." Before Aziraphale could protest, the demon had dragged him into the back room, pushed him onto a chair, manifested a soft brush and a spray bottle, and was fussing around behind him like a limp-wristed stylist.

After thirty minutes of plucking, prodding, and preening, the angel's wings were in better shape. And the angel himself had melted like churned dairy product, draped damply over the chair, moaning softly against his fist.

Crowley grinned in pleasure, leaning over his shoulder. "So... calling it an early night, then, are we?"

Aziraphale nodded with a tiny whimper of lust and looked up at the demon with bright, glazed eyes, begging in a way he never had before.

Oh, yes, Halloween would always be Crowley's favourite holiday. "Tricks or treats," he growled seductively, and gave Aziraphale a taste of each.

 

* * *

 

 **RE-ARRANGEMENT  
**

"Uhnn, yes… just a bit more… to the left," Aziraphale panted and gave a mighty flex of his entire body.

"There?" Crowley groaned, heaving forward with great effort. "That the spot?"

"Aahh… almost… there…" Aziraphale was red-faced and sweating with exertion, but determined.

"Come on, angel," the demon whined against his ear, "it's taking… too long…" He backed away, wiping his dampened face. "You could have hired someone - "

Aziraphale gave an offended grunt. "My dear… not just anyone is allowed to touch such treasures."

"Yes, but… you could have miracled your Bible bookcase across the room, you know."

 

* * *

 

 **SURPRISE CALLER  
**

The phone was ringing. Crowley didn't even pull his head from the covers to answer it. "H'lo… sleepin'... nothin'... yeah, sleep naked, whaddaboudit…"

His eyes opened in surprise. "Do I wanna what? Hey, nobody wakes me up to pant obscenities into my ear, unless they're sleeping right next to me and equally naked, understand?"

He slammed the phone down, and promptly went back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later he was awakened by knocking at his door.

He grumblingly answered it to find a blushing Aziraphale.

The angel smiled and said, "I didn't bring pajamas." Then he kissed the stunned demon.

 

* * *

 **MATTER OF PROPORTION  
**

"My dear, it's nothing to be ashamed of," Aziraphale tutted, patting Crowley on the shoulder.

The demon sighed, "Easy for you to say. Yours is bigger."

"I don't see why it's a problem at all," the angel insisted. "It's not as though we use that bit of ourselves very often anyway, so size shouldn't even be a factor –"

"Oh fine, rub it in." Crowley snarled unhappily. "In your case, it's all due to girth."

Aziraphale gasped in offence. "That is NOT the reason my wingspan is wider than yours!"

Crowley smirked. "Is too. You've got more weight to carry."

 

* * *

 

 **MR. FELL'S WILD RIDE**

"AAAH! Stop! It's too much!" Aziraphale yelled, panicked and clenching his fists tightly. "Please! I really can't take it!"

"Hang on, angel. It's almost done, and I can't stop it now that it's started," Crowley responded, grinning hugely. He tangled his fingers with Aziraphale's in a spontaneous show of support.

"Oh, damn you, Crowley! You knew I'd hate this, why'd I ever let you talk me into... Finally!" Aziraphale gave a pathetic moan of relief.

He stepped shakily off the rattling Tilt-A-Whirl.

The demon laughed as Aziraphale snarled, "Never again! I really should discorporate you for that, you blasted serpent…"


	2. Crowley & Aziraphale music meme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea where this meme originated, but I picked it up along the way from the sausagefestival community on Livejournal.
> 
>  _1\. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.  
>  2\. Put iTunes or equivalent media player on random.  
> 3\. For each song that plays, write something related to the theme you picked inspired by the song. You have only the time frame of the song: no planning beforehand: you start when it starts, and no lingering afterward; once the song is over, you stop writing. (No fair skipping songs either; you have to take what comes by chance!)  
> 4\. Do 5 of these, then post._
> 
> (True, I did have to stop and check the lyrics for some songs, because none are huge favourites and I only listen to them, not sing along. But once I had the lyrics, the ideas flowed out instantly and none took longer to write than the song did to play through. It was pretty darned cool. :) I also discovered an amazing number of songs in my music collection have references to heaven, hell, angels, demons, and so on. Since I didn't choose them for that reason, I guess it's due to that overused "I" word. I picked Good Omens, of course. Focusing on Crowley and Aziraphale, of course. I might do more, and maybe other fandoms, because this was really fun! :D

**1\. STONE COLD CRAZY (Queen)** (when this came up first, I nearly died laughing)  
 _they got the sirens loose, I ran outta juice  
they're gonna put me in a cell  
if I can't go to heaven will they let me go to hell_

Crowley was running for his immortal life. The Bentley screamed around a corner and headed down Camden High Street. Right into the open market. On a busy Saturday afternoon. He winced in shared agony as the human bodies went flying over the car and the screams filled his ears. But he would suffer a _thousand times_ that agony if he was caught up by the demons chasing him.

The blood and gore and rage were actually becoming _invigorating_ , and he deliberately swerved to take out pedestrians on the sidewalks. _Might as well be hanged for a sheep..._

Breathing heavily, Crowley put down the video game controller. He'd developed it, and tested it. Now it was time to push it onto the market and watch the blood pressures build just in time for the blessed Christmas season.

 

* * *

 

 **2\. ONE (U2)**   
_Too late tonight to drag the past out into the light  
We're one, but we're not the same  
We get to carry each other, carry each other  
One_

It wasn't often Aziraphale and Crowley actually went bar-crawling. Normally they stayed in and quietly drank themselves into a stupor, alone, together. But the week after the non-Armageddon, Crowley had insistently dragged the angel out on the town. They started at the top-notch places and worked their way down to the gutters. If they'd had to worry about their livers, both would have been on a donor list by the end of the week.

Eventually, a full week after the world had continued existing, Aziraphale had had enough. He saw the worry and fears still in Crowley's mind. It was broadcasting to anyone remotely psychic, let alone another occult / ethereal being. The feeling was unneccessary, but how to convince the demon of that?

He cautiously pushed Crowley into the bookshop after another long night, plopped him onto the back room sofa, and sat across his legs. When their lips met, the demon sputtered in shock. But all the fears bled away in an instant, healed by an angel's kiss.

 

* * *

 

 **3\. IN BLOOM (Nirvana)**   
_We can have some more, Nature is a whore  
Bruises on the fruit, tender age in bloom_

The girl was naive, of course. What else _could_ she be, being the first girl on the planet? It would be insanely easy to tempt her to disobey. Hell, she might not even have a clue she _was_ disobeying in the first place, she was that innocent. And it made Crawly cringe to think he was going to be responsible for destroying that. He had no choice really. But maybe he could minimize the damage...

There was the fruit on the tree, the one that supposedly kept one ignorant of the world. How on earth could _knowledge_ be a bad thing? He sure wished _he'd_ known what to expect when he'd joined the morons who dragged him into Hell. Okay, get the girl to eat the apple, she'd wise up a little, and be able to resist any further temptations that could cause real harm. Yeah, that was the ticket. What could a simple piece of fruit to do her?

The apple, it turned out, had a metaphysical worm inside. Rotten. _Sigh_.

 

* * *

 

 **4\. LOST TONIGHT (Liz Phair)**   
_we're stuck here with nothing to do  
but I lean out the window and find paradise_

It was so cliched, really. Angel and demon. Angel wasn't so pure and pristine as one ought to be. Demon wasn't anywhere near evil enough to warrant the title. They had been friends from the dawn of time, even when they'd pretended to be enemies. Armageddon had been averted and they'd stood side-by-side, against everyone else, trying to save the world. They'd done it, with surprising ease. Afterward they'd tried to go on as normal but instead wound up as lovers, never mind they were both in male bodies. They fell in and out of grace together, melding. Whatever they were, angel, demon, hadn't ever mattered very much anyway. So cliched, really. But who cares?

 

* * *

 

 **5\. WHEN I GROW UP (Garbage)**   
_Trying hard to fit among you, Floating out to wonderland  
Unprotected, God I'm pregnant, Damn the consequences_

Aziraphale surprised himself, which he didn't think, after 6000 years, he'd be capable of. Things had changed after the world failed to end. He'd have thought things would simply go back to their old routine. But something in him had _changed_.

It came upon him slowly, but in sudden bursts, and it was gradually gaining control of his daily actions. He found himself seizing a bit more of life - updating his wardrobe, listening to more modern music and finding that _all_ of it wasn't dreadful. Then he really went wild. He stopped worrying that he couldn't dance properly and just went to a nightclub and gyrated like everyone else.

And when he found himself face-to-face with a surprised Crowley on the floor, he grabbed him and snogged him, publicly and without shame. The reward for his new found spontaneity was a trip to heaven in the backseat of a 1926 Bentley.


	3. Horsepersons music meme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthropomorphic personifications of War, Famine, Pollution, Death (and Pestilence) get to express their "human" sides. Or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same meme as used in Chapter 2.

**1 - WHY DON'T YOU COME OVER (Garbage)  
** _It's been a crazy time for us, of pushing all our limits  
Snapping necks and breaking balls, now you'd have done the same_

War stood at the stove, looking puzzled and annoyed at the tray of burned cookies. Sure, they were inedible, and of course Sable would approve of that. But to expect her to be able to handle the food part of their duties, just because she was a woman? Not happening. She threw the tray across the room and shattered a window.

Pollution rode Red's motorcycle at high speed down the highway, fumes spewing out the back. He tossed bags of garbage at passing cars, causing them to skid and crash and burn. Sure, the ensuing smoke and flames were enjoyable, but taking over War's job just wasn't him. It was too hands-on and violent. He was the quiet type.

Famine snarled. He'd liked the clean simplicity of winter, he'd said that clearly. Now he was picking his way through blackened slush in the Artic, the result of an oil tanker crashing nearby. Sure, plenty of sea life would die of starvation and poisoning, but his own job was far tidier. This was not his gig.

Death grinned, as always. Switching jobs for the day wasn't his idea. And he'd wisely stayed out of it.

 

* * *

 

 **2 - BECAUSE OF ME (Seether** **)  
** _My philosophy is things are just as wrong as they seem  
I believe it's gonna end this way, atrocity_

Red wasn't usually so aggressive, even given what she was. Usually she was pretty mellow, just sitting in the center of the tornado, the goddess of chaos but untouched by the insanity. Right now she was shredding her way through a crowd of humans, her sword singing through bone, blood spattering walls like Jackson Pollack paintings.

None of them dared ask her what the problem was. In this mood, she could well kill even another Horseperson.

But they speculated it was that time of the month.

 

* * *

 

 **3 - ROCKINGHORSE (Alannah Myles)  
** _If I shared my secrets would you promise not to tell  
I wonder what would happen if I fell_

I'VE BEEN WONDERING IF I'M DOING THE RIGHT THING…

"You're Death, aren't you? Taking the souls of the dead is… well, it's not just your job, it's what you are."

WHAT ABOUT ALL THE PEOPLE I TAKE WHO AREN'T YET READY TO DIE… WHAT IF I'M MISTAKEN.

"Very few people have ever been ready to die. But you are what you are. How can that be a mistake?"

WHAT IF MY JOB WAS DECIDED FOR ME BY HUMANS RATHER THAN BY GOD? WHAT IF THIS ISN'T WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING? WHAT IF I… FALL?

"The angel of Death, Fallen from grace? No, my friend, you serve a true purpose. And there are those who are grateful. Such as myself."

VERY WELL, I'LL TAKE YOU.

Death lifted his scythe and severed the man from his body, which was hooked up to countless machines in the hospital. He watched as the aged psychiatrist floated away to Heaven. It had been good talking to someone about his doubts and fears. Even Death had his secrets.

 

* * *

 

 **4 – WHERE THERE'S A WILL (Sass Jordan)  
** _But if you want her to love you, you're gonna get what you give out in the meantime  
Make damn sure that you know what you want, 'cause that's what you'll get_

Famine smiled as the overweight young man bought a copy of _Foodless Dieting_ and a cart full of _Meals_ ™. He had the unmistakable expression of desperation. A girl, probably, one that was currently unattainable. His appearance, he believed, was the hindrance to happiness. Of course, if the girl did indeed base her approval on his appearance then she was as shallow as the dishes were of nutrition. The young man would eat himself into thinness, and then into death, all for what he felt might be love.

Famine smiled and smiled. Never let it be said that men couldn't be as vain as women.

 

* * *

 

 **5 – SHATTER (Meredith Brooks)  
** _Prick of a pin, no blood on me, I've been tested, total wasted, in too deep  
To the zone, I retreat, what doesn't kill ya makes you strong eventually_

Staggering into the dark, sweltering tent, Pestilence breathed heavily, sucking in the horrible fetid air. How could he be ill? He was illness itself? But something was definitely wrong.

Pollution walked through the jungle, pristine and silent. He looked into the tent, smiling softly at his predecessor. Coming close, he knelt over the suffering Personification, and wiped his clammy brow with a slimy hand. "Feeling bad? I think we can fix that…" He went back outside and touched the ground, sending a wave of power toward the nearby medical tents. Suddenly their vaccines were tainted and their needles were filthy. And so Pestilence recovered.


	4. other drabbles

**DESTRUCTION'S CREATION** _(300-word triple drabble)  
_

Aziraphale sat mutely, writhing slightly in horror at the story being told to him by his unwelcome visitor.

"So when Cain slew Abel and was cast out, just as his parents were done, they gave him the sword. They didn't entirely trust God any more, a secret they'd kept to themselves for years, so the promise of a simple mark to protect their son didn't really pacify - a sword was solid. And of course when Cain met other people – people they'd never been told existed – this drove home the realisation that God could and would lie. Cain clung to the sword for the rest of his life, and it was passed down through his family, was used for fighting and killing, was taken away in the course of battles over and over, and eventually was sealed away until Armageddon. When you held it yourself, you knew instantly that it was your sword from Eden, didn't you? You didn't think twice about handing it back over to whomever was guarding it afterward, did you? Destroying it never crossed your mind. Of course the real damage had been done ages ago, so whatever happens to the sword makes no difference.

"Got the gist now, do you? I can tell by the way you're sweating. Your act of compassion led to a twisted path of creation – the creation of mass destruction. That flaming phallic symbol you thrust into the world of humankind spewed the seed which birthed War herself." A steady hand with long red nails was placed on Aziraphale's shivering knee. "Thought it was high time you knew that... Father."

War shot him a bright smile before leaving her paternal influence's bookshop. She sauntered out to thank the other one for causing the humans to be cast out in the first place.

 _(Alternate title: "War Has Two Daddies" - hahaha!)_

 __  
_ _

* * *

_  
_

__More to come..._   
_


End file.
